Settling In
by Elinde
Summary: Set just after Thorin throws Bilbo out of Erebor. Bilbo begins to settle in to his new surroundings. This fic is by no means a masterpiece but I hope it's okay. I may try to expand on it later depending on reviewers' comments.


**Disclaimer: all characters and places belong to J.R.R. Tolkien**

A/N: this story was written on a whim. I promise I'll update _Loss of a Hero _soon. :¬P (she carefully neglects to define 'soon') Enjoy!

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Bilbo remained quiet throughout most of the journey back to the camp in the valley. He was quite shaken and more than a bit hurt by Thorin's words. The others in the party didn't speak above a whisper so the little Hobbit felt lonely and suddenly very small and insignificant. He had gone from being the real leader of the dwarves, no matter what Thorin had said, to being someone to be cared for and looked after; he was not yet sure which he preferred. But as he listened to the hushed conversations around him and the severity of the situation became clearer he decided that he preferred this.

"So you gave Bard and the Elvenking the Arkenstone, Mr Baggins?"

The question startled him and he looked up for the first time into a pair of warm, inquisitive eyes.

"Well, yes, I mean... well, I wouldn't have owned up to it if I hadn't have done it, would I?" He stammered.

"There's truth in what you say," the Man said, calmly, "I must say you have a very brave heart for such a small being. I would have kept my head down."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to prevent trouble from happening. And I'll have you know that I am tall among my people!"

"Oh, aye? Well then, there's something," the Man answered in a slightly mocking tone.

"I'll have you know, Sir, that I come from a famous family. My grandfather on my mother's side was the Old Took and there isn't a Hobbit in the Shire who hasn't heard of him. In fact, I am descended from Bullroarer Took and he was tall enough to ride a horse!"

"I do believe that I have heard of Bandobras, or Bullroarer as you call him, before," an Elf walking just behind Bilbo interjected, "was it he who killed the goblin Glofimbul?"

"Yes, yes, he did! How did you know that?"

"Is there anything your kind doesn't know?" The Man muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"You are not the first Halfling to travel to our halls, Master Baggins. Nor is it unheard of for one of us to travel into your lands, especially those among us who are not, in fact, Silvan," the Elf explained, mysteriously. Bilbo was enraptured.

"Then, where do the others come from?"

"The west, as you do. In the elder days, there used to be a great country to the west of the Blue Mountains, but now a thin strip of land is all that remains. All the Eldar, Noldor and Sindar lines come from Beleriand. The Sindar, who have dwelt with us now for many millennia, came here when their own home was no more. It is difficult for those who were born afterwards, as I was, to pick them out now for our races were not that different even in those days and now our blood is mingled."

"But you are immortal; surely some of the Elves from the west are still alive."

"First, we are not immortal; merely we shall live for as long as Arda does. When she dies, so shall we who remain. But yes, there are some western Elves still here but there have been many wars and skirmishes since they arrived, moreover they try to blend in with us and succeed very well indeed. All I can say for definite is that my king is one of the Sindar; other than that I do not know, I'm afraid."

"But, sir, to me he looks no different from you-"

"I never said that the Elven races looked different. The only visible trait I can think of is the dark hair of the Noldor. There may be others but if you ask me the differences are in language and culture."

Bilbo could have talked and listened for ever but they were entering the camp and his teacher had to return to his post. Mr Baggins was left alone in the middle of an unfamiliar camp unsure of where he was and was not allowed to go.

"Well, Bilbo my lad, when you are at a loss, find someone who isn't!" With that, he went in search of Gandalf.

Gandalf proved a difficult quarry to find. Bilbo eventually came across him on one of the main routes out of the camp. He was sat to one side watching the traffic, puffing on his pipe that was, amazingly, still in one piece.

"Well, Bilbo," he said as the Hobbit came closer, "how are you settling in?"

"I haven't really settled anywhere yet; I've been all over the place looking for you as it happens," was his curt yet relieved reply as Bilbo seated himself beside the Wizard.

"You set yourself a futile mission."

"How so?"

"I have been with the Elvenking, and when one is with the Elvenking one never knows where one will end up," Gandalf said slowly. Bilbo lit his own pipe and looked at his friend questioningly. "We had... business to discuss and I suggested that we take a short walk as we did so. How foolish of me! There is very rarely such a thing as a short walk with His Majesty. We took a turn round the camp then travelled down into the valley, along the narrow, winding streets of Dale and ended up at the mouth of the Running River overlooking the lake. A while ago I saw that it was growing dark and walked back."

"Where is the king?"

"Still where I left him, I expect. Oh well, we sorted out the business so I suppose I can't complain."

He put his tongue behind his teeth and blew out a red smoke ring. It gently rose up and hovered just above the tents.

"Not bad for someone who's a tad rusty," he remarked, smiling warmly at Bilbo, "now you try."

Slightly embarrassed, Bilbo obliged, sending a perfectly round, grey ring into the sky.

"Well done! If you were in any other company that would have deserved an excellent," the Wizard praised.

"That may well be the only thing worth such praise. Oh, Gandalf, I can't seem to do anything right!"

"Really?" Gandalf asked, pipe in mouth.

"I gave 'the enemy' the Arkenstone to try and prevent trouble but instead I seem to have caused it! Maybe it would have been better if I had not come on this quest-"

"No! Bilbo! You are completely wrong! Had it not been for you all these Dwarves would have been meals for the spiders! Or prisoners of the Elves! And even if they had come this far if it wasn't for your plan, if you hadn't have given us the Arkenstone, they would all be killed by Dragon Sickness along with most of us. And even if I was here there would be nothing I could do. Thorin believes me to be against him; perhaps I am. But now we have the stone he has to at least listen to us. Even if he doesn't take on board a single thing we say then one of the others might. Don't you see, Bilbo Baggins, you have given us our chance!"

"Really?"

"_Really!_

"I know it's hard but we will get through this without the Dwarves and the Men and Elves turning against each other. You are by no means the only person who doesn't want any bloodshed."

"Even so," Bilbo muttered.

For a while they smoked in silence until a question bubbled up in Bilbo's mind and refused to go away.

"Gandalf?"

"Mmmm?"

"As we were walking to the camp, I got talking with one of the Elves and he said that some of the Sindar have visited the Shire. Why would they wish to do that? There is nothing of particular interest to them there surely?"

"They are trying to get home," the Wizard answered, simply.

"But isn't here their home?"

"Well, yes, it is now. But I'm sure your Elven friend told you that the Sindar come from the west. The Shire is as close to their old home as they can go without running into Dwarves or awakening their Sea Longing."

"What is the Sea Longing?"

Gandalf sucked his pipe for a long while in thought before answering: "I cannot say. There are none on these shores who really can." Bilbo knew the Wizard would say no more.

As they sat, the sky grew darker until all around was pitch black.

"Are you still there, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked when he could no longer see anything.

"Yes, my dear Bilbo, I am," Gandalf replied, merrily.

"Why can't we see any stars?"

"They are veiled by clouds. A storm is coming."

"Light the torches!" The shouted order was far too close to Bilbo for comfort. He shrank back.

"No need!" An Elf replied from some distance away.

Bilbo saw, or thought he saw, largish patches of flame flare up from the torches on posts stuck in the ground with no visible reason. A fluid shadow passed before each tongue of flame on the far side of the path. Calls of 'Thank you!' and 'Hannon le!" could be heard across the camp. The sweet smell of parchment, hewn wood and wood smoke mixed with the not so pleasant odour of sweating horse wafted to Bilbo on a new and short lived breeze. He felt that someone was standing very close by.

"Here is your staff, Mithrandir. Somehow you left it behind," a clear, authoritative voice cut through the still night air.

"Thank you very much, your majesty. How did you see us?"

"You insult me! Every single archer of Eryn Galen can hit a bird's eye in the dark and you know it!"

"But there is no light at all in this corner at the moment. Would you be so kind as to light the torch close by and then perhaps join us?"

The flickering flame from the torch, which was indeed very close by, made the Elvenking's face seem even sharper and more dangerous than normal.

"Thank you for your offer but I fear I must decline," he said, "_you_ may have seen to all you duties for today but _I_ have not. Come morning I shall see you both, no doubt."

"Until the morning, then-" Gandalf began but the king had already gone. "That's another thing: if you wish to talk to him you have to be quick!" Gandalf informed the star struck Hobbit, "Are you alright?"

"What?" Bilbo muttered, shaking his head, "Uh, yes, I think so."

More torches were sputtering into life, slowly banishing the darkness. More grateful voices broke the silence.

A lithe young Elf walked briskly in front of the pair on the now nearly deserted road. He appeared carefree at first glance but his gate was disjointed like one that is forced. He flicked his long blond hair behind him and flexed his shoulders under their restricting guards. Even Bilbo could tell he had never fought in a full scale battle before. His tunic, although modest, was made of a finer material than that of Bilbo's companion on the way down. Bilbo deduced that he must own an impressive title, and he was right. His highly polished quiver shone in the firelight as he passed by.

"Your father's looking for you!" Gandalf called after him. The figure slowed slightly and regarded the Wizard.

"Did he say why?"

"No!"

"Which way did he go?"

"The way you're headed!"

"Hannon le!"

The figure slipped into the shadows as his sire had done. Bilbo decided that he'd need to watch the Elves if he wasn't going to be startled on an hourly business.

"Well then, what are your first impressions of camp life?" Gandalf asked him.

"It's very unpredictable," Bilbo started.

"That'll be the Elvenking. What else?"

"It's very strict."

"That'll be the king and Bard.

In the distance, music could be heard.

"Do they really sing every night?" Bilbo asked in awe.

"Well, you've been hearing them too, but yes, they do."

Bilbo grinned. "I love Elven singing!"

"How are you settling in?" Gandalf asked again.

"Well! Very slowly, but well!"

_I meth_

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A/N: Okay, I know that didn't really have a plot but this is what happens when I let my mind wonder. Please tell me if you did/ didn't enjoy it. If you did, I shall post more like this in the future. If you didn't, I won't.

Cuio vae!


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